My Almost
by Clowie
Summary: A R/Hr oneshot. Set in an AU, will they get it together or wont they? Hermione's POV


My Almost

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**Author Note: **I haven't written a R/Hr story, or any fanfiction, for a long time but I just heard the most amazing song and it inspired me to write this. So enjoy, cheers!

_**Sometimes you can become too close to something, someone, without actually having anything evolve, without believing you're in too deep. Friendship, a close friendship, can get stuck in the middle of friendship and something more. You get caught on the line and, all of a sudden, there's no going back. Then, sometimes, there's no going forward either and suddenly, inexplicably, there's nothing**_.

It felt as though you had always been heading towards this point, as if this _was_ yout relationship, always had been your relationship. If you held out your finger you could have touched it, what could have been, what was suppose to be. Yet, here you stand facing the best friend who was, is, so much more, watching the silence, the emptiness radiate between you. This was it, last chance to reach out and achieve what was there to be achieved, she could taste it, see it, but somehow it still isn't yours. All you can do is stare blankly into those blue eyes, stare into the dream.

You're brought back to reality by his cough; you take him all in, his flaming mane of hair, the slightly crooked nose, those blazing eyes and the loveable awkwardness to his stance. His scent fills you up and you stumble slightly forwards, but he doesn't notice, his not looking at you. He never does, not anymore.

"So, ummm, well I guess this is it," he doesn't look up as he speaks, but you hear the slight quake in his voice. You know what he does. This really is it, this is goodbye for good. You also know, like he does, that this doesn't have to be it, that this could be the start of something more. One move and this scene changes. For the better or for the worse, you still don't know. Maybe you never will.

"Yeah I guess it is," you reply, a sad smile creeping onto your face as you stare at him, begging him for something, something more than this emptiness, this indifference. Then his eyes lock with yours and you instinctively take a step back. The sheer passion overwhelms you. Those eyes; so full of emotion, telling you everything you've ever wanted to know, ever wanted to hear him say; should be enough. You know that what you're looking at he is too, you're eyes must mirror his because this look, this simple look, explains to you all you've ever felt for this man.

But, all too soon, the moment passes, like always you both have failed to act on the impulse, and he begins to turn away.

_

* * *

He could have died and you would never have told him how you felt. It could have all ended and he would never have known. Never have known that he wasn't you're best friend. _

_Best friend wasn't a big enough term to explain how you felt about him; no he was definitely more than that, to you anyway. However, lover didn't fit your relationship either, you weren't even sure if love was the emotion you were feeling. It didn't sound right in you're head; this wasn't the love you had read in countless novels. If it wasn't written down somewhere, if this confusing burst of feelings, the sudden rush of fire that speed up so quickly, burnt so fiercely, hadn't been identified by someone else, it couldn't be love, could it? No, if there was one thing Hermione Granger stood by it was logic, and this wasn't logical._

_But, that didn't mean you can't at least tell Ron how much he means to you, how you loved to rile him up just to see the fire burning in his bright blue orbs, how sweet and kind he could be towards you, how he tore you up inside and then, somehow, magically pieced you together again with his gorgeous lopsided grin and how you'd felt as though life was no longer worth living when you heard that he'd been poisoned. _

_You knew one thing for certain, you weren't going to allow this opportunity to slide by you, no matter what_.

* * *

How ironic, you had let the moment slip out of you're grasp, you'd let everything else interfere. You'd done everything you'd promised yourself you wouldn't do. There was always going to be another time, another way to tell him. It would all work itself out in the end. Unfortunately for you, this was the end, his back was turned, this was goodbye.

"Wait!" You heard your voice come out, more confident then you were, before you formed the words in your mind, you're body behaving on instinct.

He stops instantly, not turning around, not even glancing at you, but stopping, that's a sign.

"I mean," you search frantically for the right words, time is slipping past once more, "You didn't say goodbye." No, you still can't find the words, you never will.

His shoulders sag, an exasperated sigh escapes his lips, and slowly he turns to face you, the image of a man defeated. But, despite the cold indifference spoiling his features, he comes towards you. Finally ready to say goodbye.

* * *

"_Hermione," he reaches out his hand and gently strokes your cheek, saying your name like a prayer. You lean into his touch, fall into the dream. He lifts your chin, your eyes lock with his, passion stirs, a fire is ignited._

"_Ron," you sigh, he smiles and leans into you, eyes slipping closed. This is it. The moment has finally arrived. You shift forwards, into the warmth. Suddenly a voice pops into your head, _Harry.

_Though you don't want to, you pull back. He grunts and the arms holding your waist drift away. You stare into his confused face and take a few steps back; you can't let your mind become clouded._

"_Harry," you whisper, and his disgruntled sigh tells you that he understands, he understands but he doesn't want to. He turns away from you, the warmth disappears._

"_It's always Harry," he mutters bitterly

* * *

_

How true, that was always your excuse, Harry needed you, what if Harry doesn't approve, what if Harry walks in, we should go find Harry. Even when you'd finished helping Harry he was your scapegoat.

But, now you have no excuse, now its either something more or goodbye.

Oh no, his close again, too close.

"Hermione," he shifts his gaze, moves that blinding blue away from you, "I never wanted this." You wait for him to continue, wait for him to say what you long to hear, what you know he feels, but there is no more.

"Me either," you mumble, unable to look at him now. You're standing so close yet so far away, looking for more, desperate for closure.

Something warm and soft caresses your cheek, once more your slipping, and then it disappears, remaining only in memory.

You look up once more, his still bending over you, his cheek still close to yours, not close enough.

"Goodbye then," he murmurs, you hear him choke on the words and you want to scream out, you should scream out. But you can't. It's too late.

You lean into his chest, feel his arms wrap instinctively around you, his chin resting gently on your head. The world stops for a moment, you stay in his arms, the cacoon of comfort, and for that moment it's like it happened, for a moment the goodbye doesn't exist. So you memorise him, the feel of his arms encompassing you, his smell entering you with each breath and the gentle thud of his heart against your ear.

Sure enough, the moment is broken as you both step away.

"Goodbye," you whisper, smiling slightly, lying to yourself about what the word really means.

He nods, a melancholy smile playing on his lips, before he turns and walks away, fading into the crowd, disappearing from your life.

A lonesome tear slides down your cheek, suddenly you are alone.

"Goodbye my almost lover," you whisper to the wind as you turn slowly and begin to move away. The dreaming ends

_Should have known you'd bring me hearthache, _

_Almost lovers always do_

**Authors Note: **Constructive criticism is most welcome. Read and Review, you know the drill. Cheers!


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